That's What Friends Are For
by PoeticallyIncorrect1
Summary: Charlie is sick at home and when he can't reach Don, he calls Terry.
1. Chapter 1

A/N This takes place in season 1 when Terry is still aound and Charlie has started consulting for the FBI.

**THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR**

**Part 1**

It had been a long and busy day and Terry Lake was glad to be home at last. She had just gotten settled on the couch with a take out salad and her favorite DVD ready to watch when the phone rang. "Better not be a telemarketer," she muttered as she set aside the remote and picked up her phone from the end table. A quick check of the caller ID showed that it was a name and number she instantly recognized. "Hello?"

"Terry, do you know where Don is? I need to reach Don," Charlie Eppes answered, his voice sounding strained and weak.

"He was leaving when I was so I assumed he went to his apartment," Terry answered.

"I tried there, tried his cell. He's not answering," Charlie answered, his voice becoming more strained.

"I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation why," Terry said reassuringly. She thought for a moment. "Charlie, are you there alone??"

"Yeah. Dad's in San Diego. Don't want to bother him," the young man replied.

"Is there anything I can do?" Terry asked. She was already on her feet the salad in her free hand.

"Can you please bring me some ginger ale? I'm feeling really sick with this stomach bug," Charlie asked.

"I'll be right over with it," Terry promised. "Then I'll go find Don for you."

Please hurry," he replied somewhat breathlessly. Quickly ending the call, he dropped the phone and leaned over the edge of the bed to throw up in the bucket he'd placed by the side for just such a need.

Terry quickly slipped into her shoes and grabbing her purse, she gave the couch one last longing look, she headed for the door. The stomach flu had been making the rounds of both CalSci and the FBI office and she counted herself lucky to have evaded it so far. _Apparently Charlie hadn't been so lucky_ she thought wryly.

Once the nausea had receded, Charlie lay back on the bed panting and moaning in pain. The cramping pain he'd felt earlier had was now developing into a sharp steady pain and he knew he had a fever. But the stomach flu usually ran its course in about 24 to 48 hours and he figured he could hold out that long. No use disturbing his father's long anticipated weekend with his best friends down in San Diego. Now if he could only get in touch with Don in case he needed anything else.

Terry drove quickly to the 24 four hour discount store she knew was on the way into Pasadena. From her own experience with the flu last year, she had a good idea what Charlie might need or want. Besides the ginger ale she quickly added to her cart a bottle of anti-nausea medicine, a pack of bottled water, some unsweetened frozen fruit bars, crackers, broth and a package of sugar free gelatin cups. Once the purchases were made, she was on her way again.

After a few minutes of just lying on the bed, Charlie decided that he'd better make sure the door was unlocked so Terry could let herself in. Putting a hand on his stomach, he slowly sat up and staggered down the hallway to the stairs. Clutching tightly to the railing, he slowly made his way down taking a step at a time. By the time he made it to the door, he was exhausted and didn't want to tackle the stairs again; climbing them would be like climbing Mount Everest, as weak as he felt. Stumbling over to the couch, he collapsed on it praying that he wouldn't be sick again as there was nothing handy to use.


	2. Chapter 2

**THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR**

**Part 2**

Arriving at the house, Terry got out of her car. With her arms full of groceries, she made her way to the porch and rang the doorbell. "Charlie?" she called out

"It's unlocked," he weakly replied.

Terry quickly set one of the bags on the porch and pushed open the door. "Charlie?"

He was still on the couch curled up on his left side clutching his stomach. "Feel so sick," he moaned.

She wasn't sure if he meant he was sick with the stomach flu or going to be sick. Not wanting to take any chances, she said, "Just hang on a minute, Charlie" and hurried toward the kitchen in search or a bucket anything he could throw up in. Grabbing a small wastebasket, she made it back to the couch just in time.

With a groan, Charlie leaned over the side of the couch and threw up, bringing up mostly bile. Once he was finished, he sank back on the cushions and whispered, "Sorry about that."

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry about. We're friends, right?" She watched him slowly nod. "And friends help each other."

"Even when they throw up?" he asked, the briefest hint of a smile playing about his lips until it was abruptly obscured by a grimace of pain.

"Even when they throw up," the FBI agent confirmed. "I'm going to get you some water to rinse your mouth out, okay." She lightly touched his forehead, brushing back the damp curls. And taking note of how hot his skin felt.

"Okay," he replied. He watched her stand up and head for the kitchen.

Terry quickly returned a cup of water and a damp cloth in her hands. His high fever and the way he was positioned were vaguely familiar and it troubled her. "Can you sit up a little and take the cup?" she asked.

Charlie struggled to sit up a little but it was obvious that the movement brought on more pain. Taking the cup with shaking hands, he allowed some of the water to trickle into his mouth. He swished it around for a moment in a futile attempt to get rid of the sour taste before spitting it back into the cup.

Terry took the cup and set it aside and as Charlie settled back onto his side, she placed the damp cloth on his forehead. Then pulling the ottoman to the side of the couch she sat down and asked, "Charlie, when did you first begin feeling sick?"

"This morning…at work….Thought I have the…stomach flu," the young man replied. He closed his eyes briefly and opened them again. "W-where's Don?"

"I'll get him, Charlie. But first you need to be taken care of. I have just one more question for you. "Where is the pain the worst?"

"Hurts...all over…Lower right side," he replied.

Terry said quietly thinking for a minute before she spoke. "Charlie, I think this is more than just a bad case of stomach flu. Everything seems to indicate appendicitis and you need to get to a hospital right away. Now I'm going to call 911." She patted his shoulder. "It's going to be all right."

"Sick," he suddenly whispered and leaned over retching.

She waited until he was finished and helped him lie back. Then she pulled out her phone to request an ambulance. Once she finished the conversation, she hung and said, "They'll be here soon, Charlie. I'm going to need to call your dad and let him know."

"He has…his cell…Don can tell you…number." He clutched his stomach tighter moaning in pain.

Terry sat by his side stroking his forehead and waiting for the ambulance to arrive.


	3. Chapter 3

**THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR**

**Part 3**

Finally the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance and Terry got to her feet saying, "The ambulance is almost here, Charlie."

His only response was a moan of pain.

By the time she had stepped out onto the porch, the sirens were closer and she could see the ambulance as it turned onto the street. As soon as the emergency vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the house, the paramedics jumped out and grabbed their gear.

"He's in here!" Terry called out, holding the door open for them. The paramedics hurried in and setting their gear on the floor, they began to make their assessment of the young man.

"Can you tell us what's wrong, Sir?" one of the paramedics asked as she pulled out a stethoscope and BP cuff.

"Hurts," their patient moaned in obvious pain.

Her partner was already getting out an IV bag and kit. "We're going to give you something to take the edge off your pain before we examine you," he said and deftly inserted the IV needle into the back of Charlie's hand

Terry spoke up. "He's had nausea and vomiting and says his lower right side hurts," she explained.

The female paramedic took note of the FBI agent's words and turned to speak again to Charlie. "Do you have any known allergies?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Okay. I'm going to give you some morphine now. That should help." She reached into the drug box and removed a pre-measured syringe which she injected into the IV.

The painkiller rapidly took effect and the young man's body slowly relaxed.

"Good stuff-that morphine. Okay Jake and I are going get you to lie flat so we can check you out. Then you're getting a fast trip to enjoy the hospitality of the closest medical facility. They'll figure out what's wrong with you," she said.

"Terry says…it's pendicitis," Charlie said, his voice sounding slightly slurred.

The paramedics briefly glanced over at Terry who said, "Everything seemed to indicate that instead of the stomach flu."

Even with the morphine, Charlie still winced in pain as both paramedics carefully eased him onto his back and began to check his vital signs. Withdrawing the thermometer from his ear, the woman quietly said, "Temp's 102.4."

Jotting the readings down in a pocket notebook, Jake said, "If you can handle everything, Pam, I'll go get the gurney."

"Go ahead," she replied, her attention on their patient.

Terry had walked over to the far side of the couch to speak to Charlie. "I need to know where your wallet is with your ID. They'll probably need it later at the hospital to get insurance information."

"Upstairs…desk," he replied.

"Okay. I'll go get it," she said and reached to pat his shoulder. "I'll be right back. She looked at the paramedics. "What hospital are you taking him to?"

Huntington Memorial," Pam replied.

Terry nodded and headed up the stairs. She found the wallet just as Charlie said, lying on the desk in his bedroom. Carefully slipping it into her pocket, she made her way back downstairs.

Pam had finished her examination was packing up the gear. Looking up at Terry she said, "He'll be ready to transport as soon as Jake gets back."

I'll lock up and follow you," the young woman said.

"Good call on the appendicitis. With the stomach flu making its rounds it's easy to misdiagnose it as that unless you know what to look for," Pam said.

Jake quickly returned with the gurney and maneuvered it until it was up against the couch. Hooking the IV bag onto the pole, he said, "Pam and I are going to get you on the gurney and strap you in. Ready?"

"Ready," Charlie answered.

"You just let us do all the work, okay," the paramedic instructed as he and his partner carefully lifted Charlie and placed him on the gurney, quickly buckling the straps.

Terry leaned down to speak to Charlie. I'm just going to put away the groceries and lock up and then I'll see you at the hospital.

"You'll find…Don?" he asked.

"I'll find him. Don't worry," Terry promised. She watched as the paramedics wheeled Charlie out the door. Then picking up the forgotten bags of groceries, she quickly put them away. Grabbing the set of spare house keys from the kitchen, she headed out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR**

**Part 4**

The paramedics had called ahead so as soon as the ambulance arrived, Charlie was immediately taken to an exam room. Once the young man had been carefully transferred from the gurney to the table, Pam hung the IV bag on the pole and said, "If you don't need us for anything, we'll be heading out."

"We can get it from here," the nurse said as she went to get a gown for the patient to put on.

The doctor was saying, "I hear you've been having some abdominal pain. On a scale of one to ten can you tell me how bad it is?"

"Was…eleven…Not so…bad now…" Charlie answered.

"That was after the morphine?" the doctor asked.

"After morphine," Charlie confirmed.

"I'll have Amy help you get undressed and into a gown," the doctor instructed. He stepped away from the bed.

When Terry arrived at the hospital, she quickly headed into the ER to find out about Charlie.

The nurse on duty at the triage desk looked up to asked, "Can I help you?"

"Yes. A friend of mine—Charles Eppes—was just brought in. Can you tell me where he is?" Terry asked.

She quickly consulted a computer screen and replied, "The doctor is with him right now. "You can take a seat and wait for someone to come out and talk to you."

"Thank you," the FBI agent replied and headed for the row of semi comfortable looking chairs."

Once she had helped Charlie into the gown, she began to check his vitals, reporting the readings to the doctor. "His temp is 103. BP 100 over 80." She said.

"Okay, I'll get him started on a broad spectrum antibiotic and call for a surgical consult just in case," the doctor instructed.

"Yes, Dr. Brusci," Amy replied and stepped over to the phone to make the necessary calls.

He turned his attention to Charlie. "Can you tell me where the pain is located?"

"Lower right side," the patient answered.

"I'm going to press on various places of you abdomen and you tell when the pain is the worst," the doctor said and began to lightly press down.

Charlie managed to stay silent until the doctor got to his lower right side but as he felt the pressure he let out a gasp of pain.

"The doctor took note of that and asked, "Did it hurt worse when I pressed or when I let go?"

"When you…let go," Charlie answered.

"Rebound tenderness. I called in a friend of mine to take a look at you and if he agrees with my preliminary diagnosis, you'll most likely be heading up to surgery soon," Dr. Brusci said.

"Amy spoke quietly to the doctor, "Dr. Liang will be on his way down as soon as he can."

"He's one of our best surgeons," the ER doctor assured Charlie and began making notations in the patient's chart.

"What have we got, Keith?" Dr. Joseph Liang asked as he entered the exam room and paused to pull on a pair of gloves.

"My prelim diagnosis is appendicitis—pain in the lower right quadrant, nausea and vomiting and rebound tenderness, temp is 103." Dr. Brusci replied

"That's a little high. What have you given him for it?" Dr. Liang asked as he began his own examination of Charlie.

Terry had gotten herself a cup of coffee which she not even gotten around to drinking and was resisting the urge to get up and pace when she saw the two doctors finally approach. Getting to her feet, she asked, "How is Charlie?"

Dr. Liang spoke up," All I can say that's stable right now and will be going to surgery fairly soon."

"its appendicitis, isn't it?" Terry asked and watched him nod in confirmation. "That's what I suspected so I called 911. Charlie just thought he just had the stomach flu."

"The early symptoms are easy to misdiagnose as bad case of the stomach flu or food poisoning," Dr. Liang agreed.

Dr. Brusci said, "He's asking for some one named Don. Would that person happen to be here?"

"Unfortunately not. Don is his brother and he called me when he couldn't get a hold of Don. Look, could I see Charlie for a minute before he goes to surgery. I think I can assure him that Don will be here soon," Terry explained.

"All right but only for a few minutes since he's getting ready to be transferred to the surgical unit," Dr. Liang replied. "Please follow me."

"Thank you," Terry replied and followed the surgeon back to the exam room.

Charlie had just been given some more of the morphine and some valium to relax him. Looking at Terry as she approached the bed, he asked, "Don…with…you?"

Terry reached out and took his hand. "Not yet, Charlie, but I promise you that he'll be here when you wake up from surgery," Terry answered.

"O-Okay," Charlie replied, closing his eyes.

Terry placed his hand on the bed and turned to leave. "I'll get him here even if I have to drag him kicking and screaming every step of the way," she muttered.

"I can have someone show you where the surgical waiting room is," Dr. Liang said as he picked up the chart and made a quick notation.

"I'll be back later. Right now I need to go track down his brother before I decide to strangle him myself," Terry replied and headed for the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR**

**Part 5**

As soon she left the hospital, Terry headed for Don's apartment. She had fairly certain that's where he was and she had a pretty good idea why he was incommunicado at the moment. Sometimes after a busy stressful week, he's shut off his phones, put on a game or movie, grab a beer or more and try and pretend that serial killers, rapists and the other evil in the world didn't exist even if for just a little while. After a night of unwinding and de-stressing, he'd turn the phones on and go on with his life. Usually nothing urgent demanded his attention although he'd always have a few missed calls to return the next day.

Arriving at the apartment, she could hear the sounds of a basketball game on the TV although it took a full minute of continuously leaning on the doorbell to get any response from with it. Finally a familiar and very grumping voice was heard calling out, "I'm coming! Now quit ringing the damned bell!"

Terry quickly stepped aside just as the door was flung open to reveal Don standing in the doorway clad only in boxer shorts and a T-shirt and clutching a beer in one hand. Blinking his eyes in the dimmer light of the hallway, he looked at the woman standing there asked confusedly, "Terry? What are you doing here?"

"Check your messages, Don," she said sharply as she pushed past him into the room, her eyes taking in the several empty bottles on the floor by his recliner.

He put down the bottle and picked up the phone noticing that he had twelve missed calls, all from Charlie. "Okay. I'll call and find out what he thinks is so important," Don said.

"Don't bother because now he won't answer," Terry replied. "When he couldn't reach you, he called me to see if I could get in touch with you."

"Did he ay why he needed to get in touch with me?" Don asked.

"Pick him some ginger ale at the store which I did. It turns out that the _stomach flu_ he thought he had was appendicitis," Terry explained. "He's currently at Huntington Memorial getting his appendix removed. Go get dressed and I'll drive you there."

"I'm perfectly capable of driving myself," Don protested.

"Maybe. But I promised Charlie you'd be there when he woke up from surgery and I'd like to get us both there in one piece," she said mildly.

"Does Dad know about Charlie?" Don asked as he shut the bedroom door behind him.

"Not yet. You can call him from the hospital," Terry answered.

A few minutes later Don stepped out of his bedroom wearing a pair of faded jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. "Just let me get my keys and wallet and I'll be ready," he told her.

"He's going to be all right, Don," Terry said, once they were in her car. Starting the engine, she pulled out into the street.

Arriving at the hospital, they entered and hurried over to admit desk. Don spoke to the clerk, asking, "Can you tell us where the surgical waiting area is?"

"Third floor and then follow the signs. You can't miss it," the clerk replied. She glanced at the computer screen. "What patient are you here for?"

"My brother, Charles Eppes. I'm told he's having his appendix removed," Don answered.

"While you're waiting would you mind very much filling out what you can of his admitting paperwork?" she asked.

"I'll give it a try," Don replied since it would be something to do while he waited for any word on Charlie.

The clerk handed over a clipboard full of papers saying, "Just return it down here when you're finished.

"Come on, Don," Terry said as she took him by the arm and started for the elevator.

Arriving in the waiting area, they managed to take seats on the couch. Don glanced over the papers and said, "Darn. I'm not sure if I even exactly what Charlie has for his health insurance."

The young woman reached into her pocket and removed the wallet. "You might look in there. Charlie knows I have it but you can hold onto it for him," she said quietly.

"Thanks," Don said, taking it from her. Once he'd filled out as much as he could of the paperwork, he set aside the clipboard and leaned forward, elbows on his knees and chin resting on his hands. "God, I really hate hospitals. With a sign he shifted position letting his hands dangle loosely between his knees.

"I do too," Terry admitted. She reached an arm around his shoulders. "Too many bad memories of your mother?"

"Yeah," he answered tiredly and turned to look at her. "How come you're so familiar with appendicitis?"

Terry kept her arm around his shoulders as she quietly replied, "In my senior year in college my roommate had a bad attack. We were out on a camping trip, miles from anywhere and no way to call for help. By the time someone found us, her appendix had ruptured. S-she died on the way to the hospital."

Don wrapped his arm around her and drew her close. "I'm sorry, Terry," he said.

She reached up and gave his hand a squeeze. "Charlie wasn't that sick, Don. He's going to be all right," she said reassuringly as together they waited for someone to come speak to them.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N** This story was pretty much plnned out in summer 2005 and I always had the impression that Don and Charlie wasn't all that close as they were in later seasons. Thus the less emotional Don although he is concerned about Charlie.

**THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR**

**Part 6**

Terry wasn't sure how long they'd sat waiting when she finally saw Dr. Liang approaching. Still in his surgical scrubs. He came to a stop before there pair and regarded Don for a minute before saying, "I take it that you're the missing brother."

"Yes, I am. How is Charlie?" Don asked quickly as he got to his feet.

"He's doing very well I must say. His appendix was still intact so I was able to perform a less invasive surgical procedure," the surgeon replied.

"That's good news. When can I see him?" Don asked the relief evident in his voice.

"He'll still be in recovery for a while longer and then moved to a room in the Med/Surg Unit. You can see him once he's there. I'll make sure and keep you informed," Dr. Liang replied.

"Thank you," Don said.

"Now if you will excuse, me I have other sick patients to attend to," the surgeon replied and headed for the exit.

Don watched the doctor leave and then said, "Excuse me," getting to his feet a little unsteadily.

"Are you all right?" Terry asked.

"I'm okay. Just been sitting too long. Be back in a few," he replied and began to make his way toward the restrooms at the end of the hall.

Terry nodded and settled back on the couch, reaching for a magazine. She knew that Don deep down Don had been worried about Charlie although the brothers didn't have the closest of relationships at times.

Inside the men's room Don made use of the facilities and went to wash his hands. Standing at the sink, he caught sight of his reflection and sighed, seeing the faint lines of exhaustion. Even though his team had been instrumental in apprehending a wannabe Ted Bundy, the week had worn him down and all he wanted was some time to recharge before the next case, the next innocent lives destroyed. After splashing cold water on his face, he dried it off and pulled out his phone, deciding that it was a good as time as any to call his father.

Despite the approaching late hour, Alan Eppes was still up enjoying the company of his college roommate and other friends from his younger days. And the fine wine that was being served. He was listening to Joshua Abrams recounting somewhat embellished tales of the time they took apart and reassembled the dean's prize 1939 Packard on the roof of the administration building. Of course he'd only been part of a group of twelve and they had been out celebrating a little too much upon making it to their senior year. When his phone rang, he checked the caller ID and said, "Excuse me a minute while I take this. I expressly told the boys to call only if it was an absolute emergency."

"Okay, Eppes. But I am just about to get to the _good_ part," Joshua said.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Alan quickly answered his phone. "Hello."

"Dad," Don started to say.

His father cut him off. "Don, what's going on? Why are you calling?"

"Dad, Charlie's in the hospital. He had to have his appendix removed and the doctor says he's doing okay," the older son said.

"What exactly did the doctor say?" Alan asked.

"He said that he was able to use a less invasive surgical procedure," Don replied, trying to recall exactly what he'd been told.

"Less invasive? What did he mean by that?" Alan asked.

"Look, Dad, I don't really know but the doctor didn't seem to be worried about Charlie," Don answered.

"Doctors are supposed to be that way. I'll be there as soon as I can. You be sure and tell that to Charlie," Alan instructed. "What hospital?"

"Huntington Memorial. I'll tell him that when I see him. Hey, didn't you say that you were riding down to San Diego with Joshua Abrams?" Don asked.

"I did. Then I'll rent a car and drive back," Alan said. He hung up his phone and went back inside.

"So what did your son have to say?" Joshua asked.

"Charlie's in the hospital. Is there any car rental places nearby?" Alan replied.

Joshua reached out an arm and pulled him into a chair. "Hold on, Eppes, you've had your fair share of Gabe's fine wine. Now what exactly did Don say was wrong with Charlie?" he asked.

"Don said that he had his appendix removed and the doctor used a _less invasive_ procedure," Alan answered.

"If Charlie's surgeon used the _keyhole_ procedure then it means his appendix hadn't ruptured so there was probably minimal chance of any infection spreading. In fact if no complication arise then he probably will be released from the hospital in a few days," Dr. Gabriel Andrews explained.

"See the best surgeon in San Diego is telling you that there is nothing to worry about," Joshua said. He set down his glass of sparkling cider. "Give me time to get packed and I'll drive you on back. We can always continue this reunion in LA. Gabe, don't you have some vacation coming up soon?"

"In a couple of months. I've been meaning to get to LA and see Rhianna at UCLA. I guess we could stay at your house," he told Alan.

"It's not my house anymore. Charlie bought it but I'm sure he wouldn't mind," Alan replied.

As soon as he finished the phone call, Don headed back to the waiting area. Taking a seat beside, Terry he said, "Dad's upset. I just hope that he doesn't try and drive back by himself tonight. The weather channel was predicting thunderstorms between here and San Diego."


	7. Chapter 7

A/N This may be it for a few days as RL is starting to intrude. But rest assured I am at work on more of the story.

**THAT'S WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR**

**Part 7**

About half an hour later Dr. Liang returned to say, "Your brother has been taken to his room now. You can see him for a bit but he's still pretty drowsy from the anesthesia so don't be surprised if he falls asleep while you're there."

"Thank you," Don said, getting to his feet along with Terry.

"Just check in at the desk on the third floor and someone will show you to his room. If you have any questions I'll be glad to answer them when I go check on Mr. Eppes again," the surgeon said.

"_Dr. Eppes_," Don absently corrected. "Charlie's a math professor at Cal-Sci."

"Ah, I knew that name was familiar. My younger sister Hope Liang attends there and I believe she may be in one of his classes." He quickly reached for his pager and checked it as it went off. "I'm needed down in the ER but we will talk later," the doctor said and turned to hurry off.

Don looked at Terry and sighed, "How am I going to explain to Charlie why I wasn't answering his calls? That I was being a selfish jerk who wanted to be left alone?"

"You'll figure it out," she replied. "Hey, do you want me to wait while you go see Charlie?"

"You might as well," Don answered his mind on trying to figure out what he was going to say to Charlie.

Arriving at the third floor, Don spoke to the clerk saying, "We're here to see Charles Eppes."

She quickly checked the computer screen and said, "Family only is being allowed to visit for the first twenty-four hours. Dr. Liang's orders."

"I'm his brother, Don Eppes," the FBI agent said.

She checked her computer screen and said, "Mr. Eppes is in room 312."

Terry said, "I'll just be waiting out here. Tell Charlie that I'll be in to see him when he's allowed more visitors."

"I'll be sure and do that," Don replied, already heading down the corridor toward the room.

Entering the semi-private room Don saw that only one bed was occupied and he quickly made his way over to it, taking a seat in the chair on the left side. Seeing Charlie lying so pale and still, the IV slowly dripping fluid into his arm, Don gave himself a hard mental kick for ever ignoring his brother's calls. Reaching to brush the damp curls off his forehead, the older man frowned at the heat he felt.

The light touch caused Charlie to stir slightly, his eyes fluttering open. Looking to his left, he recognized the figure in the chair. "Don…you came…" he said in a still weak voice.

"Yeah, Buddy. I'm here and I'm truly sorry I didn't return your calls," Don answered. "But I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere." He reached out to lightly squeeze his brother's shoulder.

"You call…Dad?...Didn't want to…bother…him…Thought it was…flu," Charlie said after a minute.

"I called Dad and he said to tell you that he'll be here as soon as he can," Don replied. "Charlie, maybe it is a good thing you did call Terry. I might have agreed with you it was just a bad case of flu. Like David had last week."

Charlie lay quiet for a moment and then suddenly he groaned. "Don't feel…so good," he said and swallowed.

Don had gotten plenty of experience with their mother during her treatments so that he was quick to recognize the signs. "Sick?" he asked as he was already reaching for the call bell and basin.

Charlie swallowed again and began retching just as Don got the basin in place.

"That's it, Buddy," Don said encouragingly as the retching turned to dry heaves. He held his brother's shoulder and the basin.

The door opened and a nurse bustled in ready to take over. Not feeling very well are you?" she asked sympathetically.

The attack over Charlie slumped back onto the pillows. "That…hurt," he groaned, putting a hand to his side.

"I'll see if Dr. Liang left orders for the pain and nausea," the nurse said as she picked up the basin to carry it into the bathroom. A moment later she returned with a damp cloth and the now clean basin. Setting it aside, she poured a glass of water and handed it to Charlie. "Here rinse your mouth out and spit into the basin."

Charlie did as instructed and then lay back closing his eyes. The nurse placed the damp cloth on his forehead and then went to see what orders the doctor had left.

"How are you feeling?" Don asked.

"Like I….just had….surgery, "Charlie said in a dismal attempt at humor.

"And the kind you don't get ice cream afterwards," Don added.

The nurse returned with a couple of syringes in hand. "Dr. Liang ordered compazine for the nausea and some morphine," she said as she injected the contents of both into the IV. "Now I'll be back in a while to check your vitals,"

Charlie watched her, leave fighting against the effects of the meds he'd been given. Looking over at Don, he asked "How come you…never answered?"

"To tell you the truth, Buddy, I have no real excuse. I just had a hard week and wanted some alone time. You can call me selfish if you want, God knows I deserve it," Don answered.

"I'll think about it," was the reply

"Why don't you get some rest while we wait for Dad to arrive?" Don suggested. He watched as his brother's breathing evened out into sleep and then settled back in the chair.


End file.
